The counters of the Kitchen were bustling with work as the aproximately twenty milimeter tall corrupted Guardswomen watched over their slaves working on different tasks in the name of Slaanesh. Wooden bridges made from cooking twine, toothpicks, and popcicle sticks had been used in their construction, walls made from broken down plastic cups and plates had been situated along the edges to protect from possible enemies, and beasts that seemed to roam the house. Only a day in and things were looking a little less bleak. Commander Ivaela gave a sigh as she tapped ashes from a cigarette held in a long stemmed holder, and looked down at the deep canyons that was the space between the counters, to the tile floor beneath. "So we have entered the land filled with carpet yes? The one with the giant furniture. Very similar to a house hold room." The guardswoman near her nodded at this, and Ivaela turned away. "Send a runner. I want Captain Pissari to report back immediately."

Captain Pissari's scouting into the large room full of plush furniture, and high carpet had been rather eventless except for the killing of several large insect creatures, and a large rodent mammal. She watched her women climbing up the legs of a coffee table, to clamber atop and begin setting up new defensive positions. "Tell all troops to halt forward movement for now. i want this to be a defensive position. Make camp there." She points to a chair. "There" She points to coffee table. "And there." She points to arm of the couch. "I want patrols interchanging between the three sites across the floor." She purses her lips for a moment as a single guardswoman ran up to her. "Tell the Commander I will return as soon as I have finished setting up fortifications." Behind her the loud thumbing of a Slaaneshi soulgrinder could be heard walking, and the shriekd of a Heldrake as it passed over head. "This is too easy.. Far too easy."

One day ago, the entirety of the 603rd Cadian Regiment found themselves in a new world, cut off from any signs of the war front they were being transported too and the Imperium at large. Confusion and panic obviously wrapped its ugly arms around everyone, even the commanders and officers, as people attempted to deduce the meaning behind what had just happened. After a solid hour of fumbling and shouting, the fact that they were in a giant house was reached unanimously. That or they were all shrunk down tiny by warp magic. Fearing for the worse, General Karthis ordered all the men and women of the 603rd to be checked for warp corruption and had the priests lead prayer masses to cleanse any sort of spiritual corruption. Luckily, it seemed that there were no signs of chaos amongst the ranks upon waking up.

One day had passed since their awakening and things had advanced quickly. After establishing an initial FOB in the entrance of the bedroom they found themselves in first, they quickly spread out and scouted the area. After some recon runs, rough plans and diagrams were drawn up. Thus far, the regiment was mostly concerned in the area that connected the Master Bedroom, the Closet and the Master Bathroom to the rest of the top floor, so called “High Walled Pass” as the soldiers called it.

The Imperials decided to go for a very “wide” approach, going for various FOBs and outposts as they planned their regimental HQ within the confines of the Closet. A makeshift barrier was at High Walled Pass, guarded by half of the available Grenadiers and a handful of Ogryn. A collection of Leman Russ variants and a pair of Hellhounds supported the infantry who maintained a constant diligence over the pass, watching as scouting parties made their way deeper into the massive house on foot or in Chimeras, some accompanied by Sentinel scouting teams.

In the Master Bedroom, a telephatica temple/comms stations was hastily built on the balcony connected to the room in the hopes that someone would hear a vox-signal or telepathic message and aid the 603rd. Other supply caches were littered about the room as was per regimental tactics; small supply caches left about the place to ensure that there will never be a time where the enemy can destroy all your supplies in one fell swoop. Next to the entrance was currently the tent city barracks with temporary shelters made of salvaged linen linen, a motor pool not far away with techpriests praying and going around doing rituals to the vehicles before they were used as cargo transports or moving stationary positions. Even further away at the base of the grand bed was the starts of a cathedral dedicate to his holiness with a tissue box at its base. The regiment’s priests where telling faithful Ogyrn to place the heavy materials while a few lead some soldiers in silent prayer or hosted confession chambers in the back of a Chimera, tearing off bits of the giant sheet of tissue paper to dry the tears of the confessors of sins.

The bathroom was abuzz with the most activity right now, and the loudest. After several skull servators and agile scouts deduced that from both the massive tub and the tall sink that there was a possibly limitless supply of clean water for the regiment to use. It should be no surprise that Karthis ordered safe ways of getting to the spigot sources for their own use. What few construction vehicles where available were being used to bring the life brining ichor down the the lips of faithful guardsmen. Guardsmen, Techpriests and Ogryns all working together for a common goal, just like what the Emperor’s vision of humanity was like. All in all, the General was proud of what his soldiers could and would do and doing, they’re making the Emperor proud.

“Yes, I read you Scouting Team Vector, this is HQ, what did you find?” the Vox Operator behind the general suddenly received a transmission. A temporary corner of the closet was a dedicated internal communications hub meant for receiving messages from scouting parties and the other outposts. Two command Chimeras where stationed there along with several hastily built table’s worth of communications equipment.

“HQ, this is Scouting Team Vector, we have company.” The scout’s vox crackled through as the machine spirit worked itself up (Karthis made a mental note to get a Techpriest to check it up later), “Remember those Chaos readings our Auspexes picked up? Well, I think we know why.”

Fear suddenly shot into the hearts of the general and the surrounding vox operators, many had thought that it was just some sort of recidual traces of warp energy that was left when they awoke here. But from what the scout was imply, something else was with here with them, and they weren’t friendly.

General Karthis snatched the microphone and in his calmest but firmest voice ordered the scout, “Spill the beans trooper, what is producing those readins? Cultists? Daemons?”

“No sir, it’s those damned Whores of Depravity sir.”

Karthis sighed ever so slightly, At least it’s not a load of Bloodletters, “So it seems the renegades have also found their way here. Good work soldier, get your ass up here as quickly and quietly as you can. Do NOT under any circumstances alert them of your presence and the hell out of there now. The Emperor Protects.”

“The Emperor Protects.” Prayed the scout, hoping that the God-Emperor wasn’t too busy with prayers today, or that he could even hear them in this place.

Karthis sighed with a deep breath, he was going to have to tell the guardsmen and women to brace themselves; they may have not gotten to the war they were meant to fight, but they were certainly going to get a war they will have to fight.

The return of Captain Pissari was met with much cheering, and excitement. The day had gone well, and the large roden they had killed was being cooked over the enormous gas stove they had lit. It's skin was stretched out and being readied to turn into a nice coat for the Commander, and her highest ranking officers. Commander Ivaela turned to face her from a small blacony that had been made on the edge of the counter. Her eyes had been scanning all the work that had been going on, the sound of hammers, and other tools doing their work. The sink was now full of water, and being transferred into large glass bowls for easy access by the soldiers. "Report Captain."

Pissari stared at Ivaela, and the cold way she had talked. Ivaela had only recently beome Commander of the Regiment after having killed the last Commander in a duel. Captain Pissari had not been happy with the change in command. "We have extended out reach to the end of the couch, and the opening to the outside west of here. Tomorrow I plan to have the troops move to the steps that we viewed from the couch, and begin building ramps. While at the same time finding a way to make passage to the outside, likely through demolition efforts."

Commander Ivaela nodded slowly and turned back to the Balcony once more. "I want you to create an excavation team, that will begin tunneling into the wall. I want to see more of this place.. I want there to be secret passages for us. This is important." Ivaela clicked her tongue a few times with a bit of a sneer on her face. She didn't like being here at all.

Suddenly a runner was being hauled up via a rope elevator that had been made, her breath coming out in loud gasps as she stopped before the Captain. "Ma'am... We have a problem!"

---

It had been a long night already, the sun outside had set so it was terribly dark inside without the moon or stars to shine any light. Sergeant Dimitrov gripped her sniper rifle tightly, having cut through the fabric at the top of a chair, and slide inside of it for use as cover. Her entire shift had been uneventful, but then she noticed a small movement on a step, and looked closer, her nightvision scope clearing making out two humanoid shapes, then she noticed the fact that they were wearing the standard armor of the Imperial Guard. No scouts had gone that far and everyone had bunkered down since everything was pitch black except for the lights, and fires that the female regiment had set up.

She took aim at one that seemed to have a vox on his back, both eyes open as she fired, then fired another shot in rapid secession at the second form. Both immediately disappeared from view. Standing from her position she hurried down her rapelling rope and informed nearest officer. It was only a few minutes before a runner was seen disappearing into the darkness, the only thing visible now was the small torch that she was holding aloft.

---

"Yes Ma'am, a sniper took down two enemy targets both who seemed to be Imperial guard." The Runner spoke quickly a look of excitement on her face over the idea of having a real enemy to finally face, and men to torture.

Pissari shook her head with a smirk at the corner of her lips. "Commander I will set up defensive lines immediately. We will work through the night to complete defensive positions with heavy weapons perpared, and tanks in place, and once light comes forth we will begin building those ramps. I will send scouts up the steps ahead to see what they come across."

A simple nod came from Ivaela as she agreed with the Captain's methods. "Good work Pissari. Make it so."

Throughout the night any scouts of the Imperial guard would be able to hear the hustle bustle, and hammering as the Whores of Thirst worked through the night.

No sooner had Corporal Yharmov gotten off the vox did he realize something was wrong. He would never be able to tell someone what exactly was wrong, but it was just the air. It was… unsettling. Plenty of soldiers would tell you that this was just a “sixth sense” that soldiers developed in the field of battle (not in the face of most comissars howerver out of fear that they’d get shot for “warp influences”).

“Hey, Phenson, move it!” Yharmov whispered through his teeth as the private struggled to get up the stairs, “Don’t want to get caught out here, no one going to save us.”

“Yessir!” the private chirrped up only got get a shush by Yharmov.

“Just be quite dammit! Also give me your hand—“ Yharmov felt a trigger being pulled in the distance in his mind, from somewhere. He couldn’t find out where though, the darkness shrouded all sight in the split seconds he had to react. Before he knew it, Phenson’s grip loosened as he fell to the step below. Yharmov didn’t even have a chance to react properly as he was shot soon after himself, feeling the impact as one bullet punched straight into his vox caster while the other tore his foot clean off.

Unable to contain his pain, the corporal tried to muffle himself but only rolled off the edge, landing with a heafty thud. He could feel it, the blood running out of his stump, how his body was going into shock. The man continued to grip his leg with weakening hands before letting out a great howl of pain, knowing that he’d alert the enemy but hoped it was loud enough for someone back in their home territory to hear. With his vox caster gone, this was about as good as he was going to get to “communication”.

Yharmov’s mind raced as he continued to stain the carpeted stairs red, rolling around as much as he could with a bust machine on his back. Madly reciting all the Litanies of Healing and Painkilling he could remember (which honestly wasn’t all that many), he tried to come up with a plan. Going through scenario after scenario of what he could, he realized there was no way out of this. All he could do now was prevent the enemy from capturing him, the rookie was as good as dead anyways.

Pulling out two grenades, the corporal made pained gasps as he let go of his leg and stuff one in the space between his back and the vox caster before grasping the second as firm as he could over his heart. “THE EMPEROR PROTECTS!” Yharmov cried out with one last effort of zealotry before he pulled the pin on the frag grenade over his heart. In a bloody mess, the man ensured that he would not be taken prisoner and his vox not used against the loyal men and women of the Imperium as he took his place next to the Emperor in death.

Unfortunately for him, his comrade wasn’t dead. A bullet had hit his back, effectively paralyzing him from the waist down, but he only blacked out, not dying from the shot…

---

Something was wrong, the Karskins knew it. They heard a scream, then someone shouting “The Emperor Protects!” before an explosion took place. A squad of four elite guardsmen mounted the back of one of the Hellhounds accompanied by an Ogryn and quickly road over to the edge of the stairs, asking for a returning pair of scouting Sentinels to help provide over watch.

With fire support at the ready and flames ready to burn, the Karskins quickly rappelled down to the first step. They survived the area with night vision from their helmets and saw nothing, nothing beyond the lights of fire that were certainly that of the fallen 66th Vesyans as they toiled through the night. Well, their slaves and cultist followers more likely but still, more than a few were bound to be up on guard duty.

With skill and grace not found amongst the common rank and file, the elite troopers found their way to the step that carried a burnt mark and a body. Checking its pulse, they confirmed that Private Phenson was indeed still alive but most likely in no shape to return to duty. The soldiers solemnly looked at each other for a second before they picked up the body and what remains they could find of Corporal Yharmov. Phenson was to be given the Emperor’s Peace, best to let him die in peace rather than live in agony. Again, quickly making their way up the stairs, they threw the moaning body of Private Phenson into the Chimera before mounting up and heading off, the Sentinels giving one last purvey of the stairs with floodlights before following the Chimera.

Silently delivering the Emperor’s Peace to the private in the back of the Chimera, the Karskin pulled up to the cathedral, now looking a bit grander thanks to more hard work, the priests pulled the body onto and gave the deceased guardsman his final rites before they would cremate his body. Standard procedure on campaigns, not like they had anywhere to burry him.

The night continued on as the regiment burned the midnight oil, Techpriests working throughout as their fleshy counterparts rotated in sleeping shifts. Like the chaos corrupted renegades below them, the hammers and plasma cutter continued into the night with plans being drawn up for that staircase’s defense, now known as “Gate of Ascension”. It seemed that the guard planned to stay in this great house for a while as the continued to build up, their little FOB would soon be the center piece in their fortress.

As the light would come up in the morning it would be very obvious that the Whores had been very busy at building their defenses in a bit of earnest. Walls five inches tall had been erected in the carpert, made from pieces of wood, cardboard, and even some glass. Small stands had been erected behind the wall with corrupted gaurdswomen standing at guard waiting for any possible threats to appear. Multiple heavy weapons stations had been set up. one on the arm of the couch, one on the back of the chair, and one on the coffee table. On top of this on either side of these heavy weapons teams sniper nests had been set up, ready to fire on any enemies that showed up.

Captain Pissari moved across the top of the coffee table, her eyes focused on the far movements of five of her women who were slowly moving up the stairs. Then she turned her head to look towards where some ramps had already been built on the bottom two steps, and slaves were preparing the next steps for the same under the watchful eye of a platoon of gaurdswomen. Slowly her view drifted back to the five who were higher up than the others, the ones who were scouting up the stairs to see just how strong the Imperial Guard defenses were, and just exactly who they were.

---

The trip up the stairs had been a bit uneventful so far. The fortifications in the distance could be seen the guard who patrolled it just as much so. So the five women stayed out of sight as best as possible, their forms crouched down as they moved to each step and climbed up the next one. Sergeant Kepper stopped as they were halfway up the staircase, and brought up a pair of binoculars. The fortifications they had made were very sound, and strong, it would be hard going to get through them. She cursed slightly and pointed to the wall of the step. "Set up a scouting base there. I don't want to move any further up in fear of being in a firefight. We'll hold position here." The other women of her scouting squad began quicking propping up a tent out of sight of the Imperial Guard defenses, easily out of eyesight. "This is going to be tricky.

---

Several hours pass without incident, but soon PIssari wanted to test those defenses that the Imperial guard had set up. She wanted to see their reactions. So yet more ramps were built, several slaves were dressed in their uniforms, and sent up higher on the steps carrying with them some makeshift weapons they had made from local resources. A single leman russ rolled up onto the lowest step facing the wall, and turned it's cannong. As the slaves reached a five step mark away from the wall, the cannon o the Russ fired, a enormous slug drenched with warp energy sailing through the air to crash against the wall, seeing how it would buckle if it buckled at all. PIssari stood a bit to the side with a command squad, watching and waiting for the reactions.

With the morning sun rising, the night shift of guardsmen dragged their feet out to bed while the new crew came in to take their place. It was clear that the 603rd didn’t spend the night around a fire singing camp fire songs. Their tools had toiled throughout the night as their buildings were upgraded, built or raised from the carpeted ground.

The barracks the night shift guardsmen were shuffling towards was no longer just a tent city. The grey regimental numbers marked tents and campfires had been changed with a towering purple suitcase, the ones that had wheels on all four corners that had been secured into the ground with wood and tape. The suitcase’s top flap was open and on the ground, inside was several “layers” of flooring made out of light but sturdy plastic panels, stripped and cut down from the side of a stand up fan. The inside wasn’t completely done and plenty of tents were still strewn about around the purple barracks, but the lucky few who managed to scamper up the twisting stairs and ladders found themselves sleeping on mats of carpet fluff.

As the unlucky grumbled towards the tents, the Techpriests continued their work in the master bedroom, their motor pool more fitting for the servants of the Omnissiah than their old shoe box was. Provided, they still used that shoe box as a garage, they were still in no position to complain. A wide platform was still being installed as more proper “roads” for the vehicles to mount onto, the soft carpet had some surprisingly negative effects on the treads of the tanks as they torn into it. The proudest thing that they had managed to build was a resting bay for the Warhounds. A simple tope ladder made of the loose thread of some giant pillows that lead up to one of the night stand’s opened shelves which now had a platform covering most of it and an extension made up of bits of an old ring box. Currently, it was the Saint Bravladis who was occupying the rig, the Dauntless was stationed in the corner between the Bathroom and the Closet that was still under the most construction at the moment.

As to where all this new material was coming from? Most of it hailed from the Closet, moved by the use of Ogryns or vehicles and chains. There had been several boxes of old junk that the Guard had emptied the contents and used the boxes and its cardboard. Most of the junk they uncovered was old picture frames that provided the 603rd with some much needed wood. Beyond that, there were some cozy looking slippers now being used as all sorts of small buildings like communications, caches, and private sleeping quarters for higher ranking. There was even work on getting a bunker version with some pieces of tile from the bathroom as armor.

The border defenses had grown as well, the guard extending their reach beyond that of High Wall Pass towards the Stairs of Ascension. As of right now, it was a light defense, a 10-man strong guard squad was stationed there, granted an accompaniment of heavy bolter as well as a Hellhound. Nothing impressive, but the Guard figured the Whores of the Thirst wouldn’t make any sudden moves so quickly. The General and his staff were preoccupied with other matters as well causing the matter to slip form their minds.

Of course that was all changed once a warp-infused tank shell flew over the heads of the guardsmen at the top of the stairs. With a purple streak in the sky, the soldiers ducked for cover as it took out a chunk of the wall and scattered them.

“We’re under attack! Vox caster! Tell the General we need reinforcements here on the double!” the commanding sergeant hid behind the Hellhound as he drew his sword and pistol, “Everyone! Fall into line and return fire! You two get in this thing and burn them!”

Two guardsmen clambered into the Hellhound and drove it up as the guardsmen went into prone and fired down the stairs at the rough shapes of cultists and the tank. A arching line of flames sailed over their heads the the Hellhound sent a jet of holy promethium at the enemies at the bottom of the steps, failing to do any damage besides burning some of their ramps. Realizing that they weren’t doing anything at this range, the sergeant ordered the Hellhound to move back. Red lasers ran down the flight of stairs as the heavy chunk-chunk-chunk of the heavy bolter rained down explosive rounds.

Within a few seconds of the Hellhound pulling back and the soldiers in it jumping out to join the line, reinforcements came. A pair of Chimeras rolled up flanked by a pair of Sentinels returning from a scouting run. The walkers provided covering lascannon fire as more guardsmen poured out of a Chimera and a trio of mortars came out the other. Within a mere minute the guard managed to double their fire power and could also now rain down hell on to the renegades with mortars. The stair case was soon alit with lasers and bullets, the firepower of the ordinance of the 603rd Cadian making short work of the ramps the Whores made.

The rather brutal reaction of the Imperial guard on the second floor was what Pissari expected. The sudden fire blasting down, the tumult of las rifle fire. She turned and began to walk away from the the top step heading down a ramp to her personal Chimera. "I want the Heldrake in the air. That leman Russ pulled out. Make sure those slaves die I don't want them leading the Guardsmen to our scouting camp on the steps." She moved back out of the Chimera as it reached the edge of the Couch. She turned and watched as a large group of bunkered down Renegade guardswomen returned fire with autoguns, and las rifles, another one buried deep in fabric and firing a sniper rifle.

The Leman Russ suddenly lifted it's cannon slowly, the women in side sighting in their next target. The cannon moved and sighted in one of the sentinels and with a loud CLUNK a shell of warp energy roared through the air towards the Sentinel's cockpit. It would crush the walker easily and kill the pilot while showering anyone around it with flaming debris. More small arms fire came from below, as more of the whores took position, there was at least twenty of them now, and one stood up holding a glowing blue rifle that fired a scouring burst of energy, it went wide though and leg a long streak of scorch across the wall where it had stuck. The heretic holding the Plasma rifle was about to bunker down just as a mortal shell blew in front of her, sending her body ragdolling across the floor, and bleeding from multiple wounds, a chunk of the plasma gun sticking out her forehead.

The combat continued for only a few more minutes, whens uddenly a enormous form overshadowed the staircase, trinagular in shape, the Heldrake zoomed down towards the guardsman line, and extreme gouts of flame poured over their formations, the creature shrieked loudly as it passed and then twisted around blowing more gouts of flame at the fortification once more before veering to leave the area.

At the same time, the Leman Russ began pulling back, rolling backwards down the ramp, blowing thick plumes of smoke into the air. It fired one more shot haphazardly at the enemy formation before it disappeared into cover.

---

Sergeant Kepper watched the firefight going on over head. She could see the damage going on down below, She winced as a mortar fell a bit nearby sending chunks of wood and carpet over her and their area. They will still hidden though, and she could see by using a mirror that the slaves sent up had all been shot down, their bodies layin gon the ground in odd positions. She shook her head slowly and swirled a finger. "Keep down.. Get those ropes ready to rappell down the side of hte staircase for a quick escape."

“Sentinel down!” one of the guardsmen cried as the walker took a direct hit from the corrupted Leman Russ, the soldiers under it diving out of the way as it came down. A volley of revenge slammed the lines of the renegades, some of the stronger armed guardsmen threw their grenades in great arcs towards the Whores. Any who were unfortunate enough to be standing under or next to one had their feet blown off as they were turning into fine red mist or bloody fragment-lain chunks.

However, the Imperial’s losses didn’t just stop at the Sentinel and a few dead guardsmen. On black wings of death, the Heldrake appeared and flames of chaos washed over the Imperial lines. Many scattered at the sight of it and its mightily chaos fires even as additional reinforcements arrived. The mortar teams let off one last volley, one shell directly hitting a heretic, before diving for cover from the wraith of the Heldrake.

Along with another Chimera of troops coming in, a trio of Leman Russes rolled into battle from the base at High Wall Pass, one with twin-linked autocannons who immediately began to fire at the winged chaos engine as the others shot at it with heavy bolters and heavy stubbers, even try their luck with the battle cannon to no avail.

Those who stayed at the edge of the stairs continued to rain down hell on to the heretics. The heavy bolter crew still pouring down bolter rounds into those who thought their suppression was done. Snipers picked off targets who thought it would be safe to look up. In the end, for the Whores it just came down to keeping down and hoping the Imperial lines would break soon from their Chaos Engine that was still going around setting fire to the troops and vehicles.

One Hellhound tried to make a break for it once it realized its fuel reserves had caught fire. But they had dentate near the edge of the stairs, exploding in a magnificent fireball, startling the defenders as its flaming wreck tumbled down the stairs, the carpeting proving no padding for either its burning crew or those who would stand under it.

Even as the Heldrake rained an inferno down on the Imperial Guard lines, they still fired back, continued to hold their position. Pissari growled a bit, and grabbed a flag, her arms waving it back and forth in the air. Immediately all troops began to back down the ramps, leaving their firing line completely and totally empty. There was no one left for the 603rd to fire at anymore, just a empty space with smoke slowly drifting up into the air, and a few dead bodies. The heldrake had even retreated back to the Whore's lines, and was not seen. Occasionally shots were fired towards the top of the stairs from the makeshift wall made by the whores.

"This is ridiculous. We're in a stalemate here." She taps her fingers a bit and sighs. "We need a advantage here. Something they don't have." She looked at all the Gaurdswomen gathered, all of them with tatoos, or scars, ready to fight. Some of them barely even had clothes to wear, but they were all armed and ready to fight at any moment. She stood up slowly and walked back into her chimera. Moment later it was roaring off towards the kitchen, traveling along a path of burnt carpet where the whore's had been burning roads to make travelling easier.

---

Commander Ivaela stared upwards at a pulley system that had been built to move to the cabinets above the sink, and already they had set up a makeshift platform to work from. Several slaves wedged, and pulled the large cabinet doors, but it had done no good. Finally they had positioned a Soulgrinder, and attached a length of chord between the knob of the cabinet and the soulgrinder. Slowly the engine began to march forward and the door came open with a creak revealing the treasures inside.. After much fevered shouting, Commander Ivaela herself had gone up to inspect.

Upon arriving at the cabinet she saw it, primitive explosives, but enormous, they could be extremely useful considering the lack of ordinance they had, especially since they were facing mortars. "I want all those.. On the counter immediately, and I want some way to project them into the enemy lines.. Catapult system something. I don't care how primitive, as long as it works."

---

The construction was going well, even though it looked haphazard. A large statue had been built from pieces of glass from bowls, and plates, it was a image of Slaanesh, the best they could put together with the items they had available. Sorceress Verdina stared at it, and looked to the men and women behind her that she had gathered together as a sacrifice. "I can still feel the warp. I can feel it even here in this strange place. I can create a storm." She turned a bit, and several of the Whores pushed the slaves that had been picked out forward. "Please commence" (To not break the rules of the site I will not go into what takes place), groans, and screams, and even moans could be heard as Verdina watched the obscene display that was her offering to Slaanesh.

"Here me! I am your humble servant! Lend me power! Open the doorway!" She shrieked. The blood of the slaves that had been the offered ran across the counter top under her feet. Crackling energy could be seen popping through the air, the Statue they had built began to melt and and form into something new, something different, into a circular shape, slightly vaginal. Energy began to erupt from the portal, and a storm began to form across the ceiling crackling with energy, but it wasn't like clouds, it was more like a vision into space, one filled with darkness and perverse despair.

Sorceress Verdina dropped to her knees, and stared at the portal as several Daemonettes began to walk out, their bodies beautiful, and twiste dall at the same time, difficult to tell whether they were male or female. "Slaanesh.. has blessed me."

There was a sudden reprieve from the fighting as the heldrake screeched and flew away down the stiars, following the retreating troops of the Whores who hid behind their own fortifications beyond the corner of the stair case. Sure a few stray blasts and rounds came up every so often, but no one was stupid enough to keep their heads raise all the time. For every round of blind firing that the traitors gave, a burst of heavy bolter rounds or a snapshot volley of lasguns returned, again not really hitting anything but enough to show that the Guard were definitely still there and willing to fight.

Licking their wounds, the 603rd began the process of clearing out the dead and wounded. Bringing in guard and Orders Hospitaller medics to treat the wounds while a Chimera made rounds to the Cathedral for the dead to be properly honored. The priests had already been working on a “Wall of Honors” for the dead, written upon of a “wish you were here!” post card from some beautiful paradise, a gentle hope of the dead would rest with the Emperor.

However, deaths were common and the guard and even the most greenhorn of guardsmen knew that simply moping about and being sad would do no one any good. Nearly all resources were diverted to the creation of a more permeant defensive works at the stairs. Plastic containers had been flipped upside down and turned into bunker bases with some newly cut holes; heavy weapon support sat on top and rolled out regimental colors. Some cups had been given similar treatment, now being used as gun nests that lined a growing trench wall of dust-filled sandbags and barricades. A pair of tube socks had been fitted with scraps of fabric from the closet to be used as great walls as more troops fell into line.

With the help of the Kreig units, the frontline trench was complete as backline defenses and support trenches were designed. Communication rooms in slippers where moved over as were the tents from the barracks. Flags were raised and simple garage areas were set up as the ground suddenly began to shake and quake. The titan Dauntless was moving up. The men and women cheered as the towering machine brought its mega bolters and mega lascannons to bear.

Using now flattened terrain created by the warhound’s steps as a basis, plans for roads and pathways were created. First linking up the front to the bathroom with plenty of water to go around and then the commander closet and then the master bedroom. There would be no more passing over the occasionally dangerously fluffy carpet.

Additional Sentinels were sent out along with a few Chimeras into the reaches beyond the current control of the 603rd in hopes of them bringing back more supplies and resources which could be used to build up. Scouting runs were already very promising, now it was just matter of bringing everything back.

General Karthis made his way up to the front in his own command Chimera, watching Leman Russes roll up and Basilisks set up their big guns, ready to bear on the enemy. Tauroxes came up bringing even more munitions and rations from the supply caches, a few priests catching a ride on the side of the trucks to quickly get over to the frontline troops and spur them on with zealotry and righteous hate. If the Whores of Slaanesh wanted to fight, he wouldn’t give them some violent pleasure fest, he was going to show them a real war.

The increasingly impressive defensive continued to grow, but something unsettling soon hung in the air, something unholy was polluting it. Then, with the screams and sounds of dozens of beings crying out, the ground shook again the the air became unpredictable; a Warp Portal had been opened. Many of the officers and veterans recognized that feeling, the priests took advantage of the situation to further increase the passion of their speeches, but even their faith could not prepare them for what as next.

With a crackle of warp lightening, soldiers looked up and gasped to see a warp storm brewing and growing on the ceiling, moving towards them as ominously as a legion of silent Necrons. Some tried to fire their weapons at it only for their comrades to swat the guns out of their hands. Panic brewed as the vox-casters began to act strangely and cogitors were giving all sorts of signals. Local techpreists immediately jumped into action to soothe the worried and confused machine spirits, but the men needed something to help their own spirits.

“Guardsmen!” Karthis appeared on top of his Chimera, standing tall and proud as he towered above all others, “You may look up at that warp foulness and panic. Do not worry, its only your instinct as humans. But now your instinct as proud warriors of the Imperium should lead you to not fear it! You are the Emperor’s hammer, the divine weapon of his will! Each one of you hail from a different world and regiment, but in the 603rd, we are ALL brothers and sisters in arms! NO matter what that found storm may throw at us, we shall stand against it will strength and courage befitting of our training and legacy! Now! Take up your holy arms once more and be ready! I feel that Ivaela Latrix, the whore of Vesya, will not wiat long until she throws her warp creatures and pathetic traitor cultists against our mighty lines! Go! Go and do your duty tot eh Imperium, to the Emperor!”